Page 41 of Lost Prince
"Of course I want you to remember," Lana snaps. "You're my brother, and you've lost years of your life. Good years, Lazaro."
"Maybe I don't want to remember!" The words burst out of me before I can stop them. "Did you ever think of that? Maybe I don't want to be the person I was before."
Lana recoils as if I've slapped her. "How can you say that? Don't you want to know who you are?"
"I know who I am now," I growl. "I'm not a killer or a 'mad dog'. And I'm sick of being judged for things I can't even remember doing."
The hurt in Lana's eyes is palpable, but I can't stop the words from pouring out. "You all want me to be someone I'm not anymore. You want the old Lazaro back, but he's gone. And I'm not sure I want him to come back."
15
DIANA
Irush out of Lazaro's room, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. My heart races as the image of Lana's piercing disapproving gaze burns into my mind. I can't believe she caught us like that. Of course, I knew it was a possibility. Especially since she’s hypersensitive in her concern about Lazaro. But I’d wanted to be with Lazaro so much that I believed I could get away with a secret tryst in his room. Wrong.
Not that I regret it. Yes, I’m embarrassed. Yes, I might be fired. But being with Lazaro yesterday and last night was like taking a trip to Nirvana. Not just physically, although that was blissful. Alone with him, it’s like we’re in our own bubble. We can both be ourselves. The weight of the world is a distant concern.
Even better, with him I feel tethered to the world in a way I never have. My foster families provided shelter and food, but never a sense of permanency or connection. And while I know there is no permanency with Lazaro, I do feel a connection to him. It makes me feel seen and valued. Surely, no one would blame me for wanting to experience that as much as possible since it could be the only time I ever feel it. Eventually, Lazarowill move on. Perhaps his memory will return and with it his old persona, one that is wild and violent. Or maybe he’ll just sow his oats and this white-hot burn will fizzle out. Whichever it is, there’s no doubt that eventually, I’ll be moving on again. And when I do, the incident when Lazaro snuck one of the cooks into his room will become a faded memory. Knowing that I’ll be forgotten lessens my embarrassment only slightly.
Once in the kitchen, I’m relieved to be there first. In the empty quietness, I grab a glass of water and take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. Then I get busy with breakfast, acting normal as Anna arrives and a half hour later, Maria and Janey show up.
To my relief, no one seems to notice my distress. I busy myself with meal prep as I attempt to shake off the feelings of embarrassment swirling inside me. Is Lana going to say something to Anna? Is she going to fire me? What will Lazaro do if she does? I push away the hope that he’d come after me. Sure, we have an intense connection, but it’s more physical than anything. Plus, Lazaro has a lot going on reconnecting with his family and finding himself.
I close my eyes for a moment, willing my racing thoughts to slow. Grabbing a pan, I drop butter into it, getting ready to make French toast. The familiar motions of cooking help ground me. I can handle this. Whatever comes next, I'll face it head-on. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to endure drama or conflict. Each time, I usually deal with it by moving on.
I glance at the clock, wondering how long Lazaro and Lana will talk. Part of me hopes he'll come find me after, but I know that's selfish. He needs time with his family. Plus, I told him to stay away while I work because he's too distracting.
The breakfast is prepared and served without incident. When the breakfast clean up is nearly finished, I’m breathing easier. Anna hasn’t scolded me. Lana hasn’t blown in to fire me.
I pour a cup of coffee to take a short break before beginning meal prep for lunch and dinner. Maria and Janey are off doing household chores. Anna is in her little office, working on a grocery list. I have a moment to myself.
The kitchen door swings open with a bang. Lana strides in, her icy gaze locking on to me. My stomach drops. I've never felt intimidated by Lazaro, but Lana is a different story entirely.
She approaches me with purposeful steps. I straighten my spine, trying to project a confidence I don't feel. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait for her to speak.
"I want you to stay away from my brother," she says coldly. "Lazaro doesn't need your… seduction right now. He's in a vulnerable state, and I won't have you taking advantage of that."
Her words hit me like a slap. Seduction? Taking advantage? Anger flares in my chest, burning away some of the fear.
"With all due respect, Ms. D'Amato. I'm not seducing anyone. Lazaro and I?—”
"I don't care what you think you and Lazaro are," she cuts me off. "He's not himself. Whatever this is between you, it needs to end. Now."
I remind myself that she thinks she’s protecting him.
Before I can say anything, she continues. “I won’t have you manipulating him, taking advantage of him.”
My face flushes hot with indignation. How dare she suggest I'm manipulating Lazaro. "I understand you're concerned for your brother, but you've got this all wrong. Lazaro came to me. He sought me out. I would never take advantage of him."
Lana's eyes narrow, her lips curling into a sneer. "Oh, please. I know your history. A woman like you catches the eye of a rich, powerful man. Of course, you’re going to worm your way in.”
My jaw drops. “Are you accusing me of being a gold digger?”
“If the shoe fits.”
I’m hurt, embarrassed, and humiliated. But I’m also strong, probably to a fault. "I care about Lazaro. He enjoys my company?—”
She scoffs. “No doubt, he does.”